


Half A Heart

by ApparentlyNotTooOldForThis (Original_Cypher)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, i'm a sadist, this is pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2481878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Original_Cypher/pseuds/ApparentlyNotTooOldForThis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry breaks Louis' heart. His everything. Leaves him gasping for breath and unable to find air.<br/>But... it seems to hurt him just as much to do so.<br/>Something's missing for this to make sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half A Heart

_Hey, babycackes._

Louis finds himself staring dumbly at the door to his and Zayn's flat before the thought occurs to him that it won't move on its own, and that he needs a key. Even if his roommate is present, they have one of those doors that slams shut, which has resulted in a few occurrences of desperate calls to aforementioned best friend while standing shirtless and in trackies after having taken out the trash like an idiot.

_You're joking._

It's a different key chain than the one Harry gave him, and it takes a few moments of rooting around the less used pockets of his messenger bag to locate it. Louis tries not to dwell on how telling that little fact is.

_I don't understand._

When he pushes the door open, he finds that not only Zayn is in, but he's got company. Liam is snuggled under his arm, either whispering into his ear or mouthing at it. Upon becoming aware of Louis' presence, they spring apart at such a speed that you'd think they were propelled. It's almost comical.

"It's fine, guys. Everybody knows about you two," Louis whispers at their startled faces. Then he tries to force a smile. "I'm really happy for you, by the way." He's surprised he manages to get the full sentence out intelligibly, even though he bursts into tears in the middle of it.

Being the wonderful friends and human beings that they are, Zayn and Liam instantly forget about their embarrassment to teleport by his side. Zayn's “Lou, what's wrong?!” overlaps Liam's “What do you need?”. It's a testament to how perfect they are for each other that they both barrel on with “What can we do?” and “What happened?”.

Someday, far, far from now, Louis will be able to look back on this day and marvel at how bloody brilliant his friends are, and how cute they can be when in 'parent' mode. For now, though, Louis is trying to find a way to catch a breath in between the sobs that are wracking his body.

_Anything. Anything, please. I'll do it._

Zayn and Liam guide him to the couch and press close on each side, silent and metaphorical promise that they are here to hold him up, no matter what. They soothe and shush him, rub his back while most likely exchanging helpless looks of confusion. They don't ask again. They coach him out of his semi panic attack and keep physical contact. They're probably warm, Louis knows. He feels cold. Like there's a black hole in his chest and he wrapped himself in a blanket made of snow.

Eventually, he manages to speak.

_I need you to go home._

"Harry broke up with me."

 

xXx

 

_Louis follows the smell of tea to the living room. Oh? No bacon? Maybe today they'll make pancakes._

_He spots Harry standing by the window, looking out. He's fully dressed, there should definitely be something done about that._

_"Hey, babycakes.” He steps up to Harry. Okay, that's a soft sweater. Maybe it can stay. Louis sways to his tipy toes and presses his lips to Harry's. Then blinks, and pulls back inquisitively at the lack of response. He falls back on his heels, confused. “Uh, is my breath that bad?” He jokes when he's insecure. It's a trait._

_Harry's eyes flick to him, then back to the view. Something cold and nasty starts to uncurl and spread through Louis' veins._

“ _Okay, um... what's wrong, Haz? I know I haven't done anything because I just woke up, so..." Louis trails off. Impossibly, Harry's eyes, although they haven't moved, have hardened._ “I have?!” _His voice comes out frayed, distressed. He keeps staring, hoping to find answers in Harry's profile, but he doesn't get any. “Harry,” he pleads quietly. “...what?”_

 _The skin surrounding Harry's eyes twitches, a brief squint, then his brows furrow slightly, his lips get a bit thinner. Something is very,_ very _wrong. In all the years they've known each other, Louis' never seen Harry look like that. "I think we need to break up," is what comes out of his mouth. The very first thing Harry says to him today._

 _Louis staggers back, hand falling from where it lay on Harry's stomach. "You're joking." The taller man doesn't even glance at him._ “Why?!” _And if there are tears in Louis' voice, it's probably because his entire world is collapsing._

_"You've...” Harry brings his arms up, but he doesn't cross them, opting instead to hold on to himself, both hands cupped on the outside, like a shield. Like a hug. His usual deep and slow speech pattern comes out a smidgen more distant and emotionless. “I'm just making things easier for you. For both of us."_

_"Excuse me?” Louis blurts out. “Easier_ for me? _My boyfriend dumping me is supposed to make my life_ easier _?” Harry's eyes fall from the window as he tips his head down, pulling in on himself._ “...the fuck?!” _Louis cries. He wants to kick and scream, to wake himself up. This can't be real. This can't be happening. It doesn't make sense. He... he can't be so wrong about this. About how good they are._

_But then... this wouldn't be happening, would it?_

_Harry's lips stretch into something bitter, and he swallows. “Please, Louis._ Please _, stop pretending.” He closes his eyes against unshed tears and god, he looks_ miserable _. Louis would ache for_ him _if he wasn't... if he wasn't... “This is painful enough without the evidence of how stupid and blind you think I am.”_

 

xXx

 

“ _What the fuck did you do?!”_ The door slams so hard under the force of Zayn's fling that the framed portrait of Harry and Gemma rattles against the wall. Uncaring, Zayn rounds the couch where the object of his ire is curled into Niall and keeps yelling. “"Harry, what have you done?!” Niall is frowning, moving like he wants to interject, but Harry just stares up. “Louis'... he's _broken_!” Zayn's voice cracks a bit. Out of all of them, he's the one who's known Louis the longest. They were the original pair that agglomerated all three other members of their current posse. “What on earth did you say to him?! What did you _do_?!"

"What did I do?” Harry says, voice sounding small in comparison when Zayn finally runs out of air. Niall turns to him warily. “What did _I_ do?!" he echoes, louder. "Yeah, of course I'm the bad guy. No way he's been seeing someone else or anything!"

Zayn stares for a beat, then snorts. "Right. Louis. Cheating on _you, t_ hat'll be the day." he huffs. “ Harry, I don't know what you think you know but... you're the mother freaking prize, mate.” He spreads his hands, looking exasperated. "You're the first guy he's let in since I've known him! The only one he's ever talked about. He chased your oblivious ass for _ages_. He loves you!" Zayn tells Harry forcefully. Once he's sure he's been heard, he glances at Niall. The Irishman is uncharacteristically quiet, chewing on his lip with a deep line pinched between his eyebrows.

“You know.” Harry's voice comes out soft. “He never said that."

Zayn blinks at him. “Never said what?”

"It's been five months, Z.” Harry says, shuffling out of his cuddle against Niall's chest to cross his legs. He stares down at his hands on his lap. “I mean, I'm okay with being the first one to fall that hard and the first one unable to keep the words in. But...” he lifts a shoulder. “he's never said it back."

"It wasn't five months to h-...” Zayn cuts himself off, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look-..."

"And now..." Harry talks over Zayn, making him trail off, then he lets out a shuddering breath. "And now, after weeks of him dreaming of another guy...” He licks his lips, tilts his head and his mouth in a bitter smirk. “I get to hear him whispers those three little words _I_ 've been hoping for, to someone else, in his sleep. I think... I think it's gone on long enough."

Niall holds Zayn's flabbergasted stare, making a face. It's not just that he's at a loss for words, it's that nothing makes sense anymore. When Harry looks up to meet Zayn's gaze, his eyes wide and full of pain.

"...you're serious,” Zayn breathes out, his anger evaporated.

"Yes, I am, Zayn.” Harry sniffs and rubs under his nose. His lashes are stuck together in clumps. He's cried before. “Mate, this breaks my fucking heart."

Zayn sinks down, dropping onto the coffee table numbly. He sits there, staring back and forth between Niall and the light of his best friend's life. And it doesn't make sense. But Harry's pain is flagrant. Heartbreak is painted on him, clear as day. "You think there's someone else, really."

Harry's gaze drops to his hands, and he twists them together. "Can you imagine...” he says softly. “watching the one you love reaching out in his sleep, whimpering out someone else's name?"

It hangs in the air for a long, deafening moment of silence, until Zayn whispers. “Well, _fuck_.”

“Pretty much what I said,” Niall tells him. “'Think that sums it up pretty well.”

They sit like that for a while, three minds likely racing a mile a minute within their own confines. Round and round in aimless circles. Harry is hunched in on himself, arms wrapped around himself, but he doesn't lean in to wordlessly ask for Niall's touch again. Niall looks conflicted for a moment, but he doesn't reach for him. Zayn, floored, alternates between various forms of frowns and staring wide-eyed at the floor, uncomprehending. Eventually, he finds Harry watching him as he looks up.

“Who?” Zayn asks, almost cringing at the sound of his own voice disturbing the silence. If Harry reacts to his acceptance of the situation or his direct mention of the problem, it's not visible. "I know all your common friends. I know some of his that maybe you don't, I can't think of-..."

"Damion." Harry cuts him. He recalls how visibly Louis had jerked and looked stricken when he'd asked who it was, earlier. "In his dreams, he calls out for Damion."

"Oh, fuck." The words at out of Zayn's mouth in an instant.

"Who is it?" Niall asks tentatively, mindful of Zayn's sudden distress.

"Oh, _fuck_." Zayn's shot to his feet. He looks pale, which is a feat for the tanned man. “Oh, god. Oh, god, oh god oh god..." he rambles, his eyes unfocused and dancing around. He's close to hyperventilating, and Niall and Harry get up in concern. The movement provides focus, and Zayn stares, wild-eyed and panicked, at Harry. “Mate, I gotta..." he nearly trips as he turns around, then makes a bee line for the door.

“No, Zayner. Who is it?!” Niall calls, trying to snatch his sleeve before he gets too far but falling short.

“ _Zayn!!_ ” Harry's voice rings out as Zayn starts to open the door, thunderous like they've never heard it before and Zayn flinches into stillness.

He glances back helplessly. “I'm sorry.”

And then he's gone.

 

xXx

 

It's been fourteen hours. Fourteen miserable hours since Louis stepped back into the flat he barely lives at anymore and _broke_.

When Zayn got back from Harry's, he found Louis sitting on his bed, hugging his knees. Liam sat next to him, looking helpless and terrified by the state of his friend. Zayn had held Louis, whispered a few words and, following Louis' nod, he'd asked Liam to step out.

A little hurt, but aware of the deeper bond between the two of them, he'd complied. At eight, he went into the kitchen and heated up soup. He pulled out three bowls. He didn't knock at the door. Two bowls remained unused. At ten, he slipped into Zayn's bed, wondering if he should have gone home. During the night, he heard someone walk out, but the sound of the flush came soon after, and whoever it was went back to Louis' bedroom.

Morning finds Liam dosing on the couch, after a fitful night of worrying and exchanging baffled texts with Niall. Eventually, someone comes out. He startles out of a light slumber when Zayn's shadow falls over him. Zayn's lips curl a little in fondness, he's wrapped in a hoodie he's clearly borrowed from Louis' wardrobe. He looks tired. No sleep for him then. Liam reaches up to grasp at his fingers, unsure which of them he's trying to comfort.

Louis steps into view, his lithe frame drowned in loose pyjama pants and an over-sized sweater that belongs to Harry. His fingers are clutched around the sleeves, and his eyes are glued to the floor. Liam opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it at Zayn's minute head shake.

“He's...” Zayn glances back at his best friend. “Something we gotta do.”

“... _I_ gotta do.” Louis' voice barely reaches Liam. It sounds raw, and the first word probably came out soundless.

“Yeah?” Zayn reaches out, and Louis moves to him until Zayn's hand curls around his elbow. “You sure? You ready?”

Louis' gaze meets Liam's eyes for a fraction of an instant, before it flinches away. He lets out a shaky breath. “Not ready,” he says, then meets Zayn's eyes.

Liam stares at the soft look in his boyfriend's expression. Zayn squeezes Louis' arm. “But sure.” Louis glances at a spot that could be Liam's shoulder, then looks back at Zayn. He nods.

Zayn pulls him into an embrace. It's strange, because as forceful as the affection he's displaying is, his hold is light and gentle. Exhausted. Louis buries his face in Zayn's shoulder and sighs. Zayn, eyes closed and cheek pressed to Louis' hair, looks like he's nodding. Liam is aware he's witnessing something rare. He's touching to the depth of Louis and Zayn's friendship, something that doesn't see the light of day all too often. It feels a little awkward, he's not sure that, in hindsight, they won't be appalled to have had him as an audience. He pretends he's not there.

Zayn strokes Louis' back briefly. “I'll take care of it, yeah?” He might get a reply, Liam doesn't see or hear anything. “You want some tea? I could use a cuppa.”

Louis hums, pulls back and looks at Zayn. He looks tired, scared and miserable. But he looks so, so grateful. Blinking slowly in acknowledgment, Zayn brings a palm to cup Louis' face, and leans in to press a lingering kiss to his cheek. Louis blinks a few times in rapid succession, then ends up squeezing his eyes shut, frowning against tears that are making him swallow painfully, but his mouth twists into the ghost of a smile. He clutches at the hoodie Zayn's wearing, and takes in a gasping breath, the smile stretching slightly more. It's a rictus of someone holding back tears, but it is a smile nonetheless. Liam can tell, that despite how emotionally wiped Louis appears, despite how much despair seems to be weighing on him, _these_ tears, they're for Zayn. And they're good.

When they pull appart, Liam's surprise to have Zayn's eyes seek him out almost instantly. He was pretty sure they forgot he was there, or would have preferred he wasn't. But Zayn gives him a warm look, and nudges Louis towards the couch, rubbing his arm encouragingly. Louis sits down. He looks so small. Liam almost rises to his feet to go put a kettle on, but Zayn pushes him back. “I got it.”

Liam leans back, then, and glances at Louis. Finding blue eyes staring at him dead on comes as a bit of a shock, considering how evasive they'd been before. He startles faintly. Louis sags against the back of the couch, looking like he went four rounds against a steamroller, and sinks against Liam's side. Happy to be able to provide some measure of comfort, Liam lifts his arm and tugs him even closer. Louis' thin hand comes to curl around folds of his shirt, and he thinks he hears Louis whisper. “Thank you.”

 

xXx

 

When Niall and Harry arrive, it's to find Louis still curled against Liam's side, clutching at a second steaming mug of tea. They've broken out the pint sized mugs for this one, no time for small and dainty cups when you need something to hold onto for dear life. Zayn reclaims the spot he's just vacated on Louis' other side, and the latter is so, _so_ grateful. He also looks small and fragile, contrary to his usual ball of sunshine and energy.

Harry and Niall hover. They both look unsettled and tired, although from what Liam's gotten through text, they did sleep some, curled around each other. They take seats facing the couch, pulling two armchairs closer. Harry's face seems stuck on a loop of emotions. Confusion, anger, turmoil at Louis being snuggled in his jumper, sadness, hating to be here altogether, frustration at not being alone to confront Louis, relief that he's not. And then his eyes take in Louis for a second, really look, and worry wins over it all. They can all relate. Safe for Zayn, apparently, they didn't even know Louis could even _be_ like this. His strength, the beauty of his being, the lift of his chin in spite of everything proven to be so brittle in the face of... of what, exactly?

“Well?” Harry says, voice quiet from disuse. Louis shivers as the silence is broken. Liam and Zayn exchange a helpless look over him, wondering if they should do anything to start this.

Then Louis shifts, he deposits his drink on the table in front of the couch, and tightens both arms around his knees. “Zay-...” His voice fails him, and he closes his eyes, clearing his throat before he starts again. “Zaynie, can you... can you tell Haz-...” the rest of the word hangs in the air as he cuts himself short abruptly, as if not sure he's allowed the nickname anymore. Harry can see what Louis doesn't: their friends flinching at that. “Can you tell Harry what you know about... about Damion?" His voice is thin and wavering when he pushes out the name.

Zayn chews on his lip, stroking circles on Louis' back. “Mate, I don't know much of anything.”

Louis keeps staring at the table, voice small. “Everything you can. Even if it's little. Please.”

“So, then... last time?” Louis nods. Zayn takes it in, then rubs over his mouth, mind looking back into the past. He stays silent a long time, expression growing glum. Louis doesn't move, eyes fixed on a spot in the worn wood of the table, for all intents and purposes, a statue. Everyone else waits on Zayn. “Okay, so... I don't actually _know_ anything. I just know...” Zayn sighs, licks his lips. “The only time I ever head that name was, like, three years ago. At uni. We lived together, then. Sounds about right.” Louis blinks a slow, silent confirmation, as his best friend glances over. “So that would have made us mates for about as long, ish.” He lapses into silence again, replaying memories. “We were in a bar. Out with Ela and Stan. Louis was getting his game on, picking someone up for the night.” He stops himself with a small smile. “Or, well, being a magnificent wanker and letting someone pick him up, more like. Doing all the work for him and all that.” The ghost of a grin remains for a moment longer, before it fades spectacularly fast into something dark and bitter. “Then, I dunno, maybe Lou asked, or the guy introduced himself, but... he said his name was Damion and...” Zayn's words die with the tightening of his throat. He stares at Louis, as if expecting him to break all over again. Liam is staring at him over Louis' head.

“And what?” Harry prompts tentatively, voice tiny. Louis hitches a breath and shifts to bury his head in his folded arms.

Zayn keeps staring at him in worry, until Louis leans towards him a bit. That can barely make out the whisper. “ _Please._ ” So Zayn goes on.

“He said... that,” Zayn clearly sidesteps the name this time. “and... the glass in Louis' hand shattered under the pressure.” Zayn recalls, while Niall makes a quiet sound of surprise. “I remember the shock of it all. One second, I was about to tell my roommate I knew I was sexiled, to shoot me a text when they coast was clear the next day, that I'd crash with Stan or something... and the next, there was blood, Louis was pale as a sheet, looking like he was going to hurl.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “He ran out of there. So did I, and when I found him, he was puking his guts out the next street over.” He shook his head. “No way he'd drunk that much. … He almost punched my face in when I touched him, but when he saw it was me he just... crumpled.” Zayn blinks, and the others glance at Louis' unmoving form. It's not that hard to picture, all of a sudden. “He let me take him home and didn't speak for three days.” He looks up, finds Harry's eyes wide on him, and curls an arm around himself. “It scared the living shit out of me. I didn't know what had happened, I didn't know what to do.” Zayn chewed on his lip. “At first, I tried to get him to talk, then I let him decide if he wanted to. I brought him food. I forced him to shower after three days in bed. The fourth, he asked me to stay. It took another two days of cuddles and movie marathons for me to feel good enough about him to go back to class... By the time the next week rolled around, he looked like he was recovering from a bad bout of flu,” he whispers. “Then one day, he just got up and got ready to go to class. He looked like hell, but he went. He...” Zayn looks at Louis, even though he can't see his face. “before we left, he gave me a hug. He didn't... he didn't say he loved me but I... I read it anyway." He doesn't sound certain, but Louis sniffs and gives a stiff but firm nod without lifting his head. Zayn mirrors the gesture, staying quiet for a while. “We never brought it up since then,” he concludes. “That's it. All I... Well, everything I don't know, really.”

Louis sniffs again, uncurls one arm to reach out blindly, Zayn gives him his hand. Louis grasps it in a tight squeeze.

“I'm here, buddy,” Zayn assures him.

Taking a shuddering breath, Louis unfolds and presses himself into Zayn. Given how close his friend had been, he doesn't have far to go. Zayn gives a fierce hug in response.

They're all silent for a while. Niall is the first one to break. They only just got more question, didn't they? More questions, more worry, more sneaking thoughts they don't want to believe. “Is that... did someone named... named that, hurt you?” Liam's head snaps up, panicked eyes meeting Harry's. They all exchange terrified glances, now that what they didn't want to even consider was voiced aloud. “Because, I mean, that-... sounds like...” Niall looks pained, like he's begging for someone to lie to him if that's the truth.

"No,” Harry cuts in with a sharp shake of his head. “he said he-... he was sleeping, he said he l-...” He suddenly stares at where Louis is curled against Zayn. “Oh, god. Did you love that guy and he-..."

" _No._ " Louis' outburst is forceful, voice steady and firm. “No! No, he never..." he swallows as he realizes he's looked up and is staring into Harry's eyes. He drops his gaze. “No. He never hurt me.”

Louis has sat up, and Zayn moves to follow, covering the back of Louis' hand with his own, lacing their fingers together. “LouBear, please... talk to us,” he begs softly. “You said you wanted to. I know you can.” He squeezes a little, hoping to share some strength.

Harry stares at their hands, mind caught on the intimate pet name. He hurts that he can't, because Louis looks like he needs it so much. But that doesn't change anything. He _can't_.

Louis takes a breath, and looks up at them, one by one, acknowledges their attention on him. He doesn't look at Harry's face. Then he gets up, and Zayn's hand falls back onto his lap.

“Where are you going?” It takes a moment for Harry to realize the plaintive voice was his own.

Louis looks at him, then. Like a cat trapped in a truck's headlights. It seems mutual, this way they have of not being able to resist the sound of the other in distress. “Getting my bag. Just... I'm...” he stammers, gesturing behind him.

It seems they collectively hold their breaths until he emerges back from his bedroom. They don't move, safe for Liam reaching out to stroke Zayn's hand. Harry doesn't meet anyone's eyes.

Louis pads back, soft sounds of socked feet on the carpet. He stands irresolutely in front of the couch before Liam tugs him back in his previous spot.

He's clutching a picture to his chest. It's old and small, the kind you cut into a square to slip into a wallet or a diary. It looks battered, but the back has started to turn faintly beige, testament to its age. It's been handled with care. Louis licks his lips, and pulls the picture away from himself, lays it down on the table for them to see. “This is D and I...”

They all lean forward in one accord, quiet breaths released when they take in the picture. They're presented with a teen-aged Louis bathed in heavy, summer sunlight. Fringe in his eyes, eyes bright and full of mirth, pressed to the side of another boy. Their arms are around each other, bodies tangled and identical grins splitting their faces.

In every way.

Completely, utterly identical.

Four pools of lagoon blue sea. Four sets of giggly crows' feet. Four arched, rounded eyebrows.

Same caramel hair tussled by the wind.

“... what?”

“This is my twin brother Damion,” Louis introduces in a voice they don't recognize. They can hear him swallow, and the warmth in his tone fades away. “In a month and a few, I'm turning twenty-eight,” he states. “After that... I'll have been alive more than twice as long as he was. I'll have spent more time on this earth without him than-...” his voice breaks and dies off, and he doesn't even have time to inhale again before Liam's wrapped him in a bear hug. He looks positively startled. Out of his reminiscing, and by Liam's display of fierce affection. He catches Harry's eyes above Liam's shoulder. He's staring, unreadable look on his face. Then he gets up. Louis and Liam part to look up at him, and when he takes a tentative step towards the couch, Liam springs up from his spot in an instant. Louis is lost. He doesn't know if he can handle Harry right now, doesn't know what he's gonna get. Until Harry's weight dips the cushions and Louis feels how much he _needs_. Harry looks hesitant, and he helps himself halfway into reaching out for Louis, hand hovering mid air. Louis lifts his, then, offers it out for Harry to take. Which he does, then he covers their joined hands with his other one. “I'm so, _so_ sorry.”

Louis stares back into his eyes, seeing all the emotions swimming there, seeing Harry grieve on his behalf and wishing there was something he could say, knowing that there isn't. He clings, voice coming out in a tiny squeaking plea. “Please, don't leave me.”

For the second time in a short while, Louis is yanked into an embrace. This chest, though, it's familiar, and he fits into the crook of this neck with practiced ease. “I'm sorry,” Harry hisses through a tight squeeze of his arms around Louis. “I didn't know, I couldn't...” he presses his face into Louis' neck. “I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving.”

Hand clutching tight at the back of Harry's sweater, he can't help the sob of relief that escapes him at the promise.

“I love you.” Louis shudders at Harry's words, pressing impossibly closer. He stays there and breathes. Then he reaches backwards until Zayn gives him his hand once more. He tugs at him until Zayn gets the message and scoots closer, fitting himself against Louis' back. He lifts his head, finds Niall and Liam watching them. When they see the look on his face, they come forward as well, pressing into each other's spaces, arms tangling, reaching for Louis as much as they do each other.

“You guys,” Louis says in the midst of them all, when they've given him the strength to speak again. “You're not blood. But you're my family, too,” he croaks. “It's not... He'd agree. I can't... I can't lose you. Neither one of you.”

“Not happenin,” Niall says in a tone that begs no contradiction.

“Never,” Zayn whispers, over Liam's promise that “You won't lose any of us.”

Harry squeezes harder, murmuring a quiet “no way” that seems to be the middle of a muttered sentence into the skin behind Louis' ear.

They stay like that until Niall's leg starts to shake from the awkward position and he sinks to his knees in front of the couch. They break apart, although none move very far. Louis reaches between Niall and Liam to retrieve the photograph. He stares down at it. He picked that one in particular, for a reason for which they'd both loved it so much at the time. In the shot, even people that knew them well couldn't quite tell them apart. Even themselves, only knowing which one was which because they remembered taking the picture. “He'd like you, you know.” He thumbed the corner of the photograph. “All of you. Fit right in, I think.” He glances at Harry, a small quirk to his lips. “Woulda known how bad I'd have it for you even before I did.” Harry makes a sound, then, leaning in and cupping Louis' face. But he catches himself before he presses in for a kiss, hesitant. He meets Louis' eyes, finds him staring back, wide-eyed, scared and hopeful. He looks down at Louis' lips, then, and bridges the gap softly. Louis' not sure when he balled in hand in the front of Harry's shirt, but he becomes aware of it when he starts squeezing so tight it hurts. He shivers with relief. When they pull back, he keeps staring at Harry when he speaks again. “He would so have gone for Doniya.”

Zayn let's out a scandalized, big brother squawk. It sets them all off laughing. It's painfully raw and forgotten. Finally liberating.

They stay together for the rest of the day. They order take out and swap pizza slices for cartons of Thai food between themselves. Louis finds more strength within himself, assure them that he's just having a hard time with the anniversary, and that it's been on his mind a lot lately, but having them know is actually a comfort. They push the furniture back to make space and pull out the sofa bed. Zayn brings comforters and pillows from their rooms and they pile up together for a nap. They've done this countless times in various numbers and combinations after long gaming sessions or partying late, but the different quality to the cuddle is obvious, this time. They've all gone through an emotional roller coaster and are quite content to shamelessly cling to each other, grounded by the presence of the group. Reassured. Louis takes it as a touching proof of their affection for him when no one pipes up as he and Harry fall asleep trading languid kisses.

 

xXx

 

“Oh, darling, you weren't kidding!” is the first thing Jay says when the door opens, and she laughs, pulling a confused Harry into a hug. When she pulls back, she grasps his shoulders and holds him at arm's length. “You really make my baby look like a dwarf.”

“ _Muum_.” Harry laughs, and it makes Louis want to whine again. “M'not tiny.”

“Sure, love.” Jay says, patting his back condescendingly as she gives him his own greeting hug.

When they break apart, Harry touches his hand. “This is how you get the great cuddles, though.”

Louis softens, beaming at him and conceding the point. “My own personal comfy blankie.”

Jay gestures them inside. “Dan is out, still,” she informs them. “Let me call down the gang. The girls are going to eat you up.” That last part is directed at Harry.

“Can't wait.” When his mum walks further ahead, Louis tips his chin at Harry. “As long as I'm the only one who gets to eat you out.”

“Louis!” his mother exclaims.

The culprit claps a hand over his mouth, but his eyes shine with unabashed glee when they meet Harry's. Harry shakes his head, flushed with embarrassment, but he grins back and whispers. “Oops.”

 

xXx

 

 

"Happy birthday, motherfucker!!" Niall cries as soon as the connection clears. Zayn and Liam have their own separate windows on the screen of Louis' old laptop.

Liam tuts. “It's midnight for another then, you twat.” He looks adorably like someone who's been beat to the punch. “Unless Doncaster's in a different time zone, it's still the 23rd.”

“Details, mate.”

“Is that your parents' place?” Zayn asks.

“Yeah, we're in the living room.” Harry answers for him.

Louis leans away from Harry a bit, allowing the background to show on camera. “Here's the monster tree Harry, m'Dad and I had to carry in earlier. Guess who shoved tons of pine needles up the angel on top's butt?"

Zayn smirks. “Oh yeah? You top angels, now, Tommo?”

While the others laugh, Harry covers his face. “This is so wrong. There has to be a different degree of blasphemy for that.”

Louis points a cheeky finger in his face. “Hey. You're one two talk, ye who reads Destiel fanfics.”

Harry inches out of the camera's range the other boys start laughing.

“I can't believe you brought Harry to your folks for Christmas!” Niall says, after a beat.

“Yeah, how'd you pull that off?” Liam says, sobering up. “My parents would never let me skip on the holidays, like.”

Harry and Louis exchange a meaningful grin. Harry leans in, resting his chin on his folded hands and beams, while Louis croons. “Say, Liam, dear. Why would you be interested in such a matter?”

Liam just gapes, and Zayn finds the sudden need to adjust his webcam's angle, a light flush on his cheeks. Niall, good friend that he is, despite all the teasing, bites his own fist to contain his laughter.

Taking pity on the new couple, Harry wraps his arm around Louis' back and scoots closer. “We're going to mine for new years.”

“Ah. Trade off.” Niall nods wisely. “Adult stuff. Bravo, guys.”

They chat for a moment longer, until midnight strikes and they can all wish Louis a happy birthday. They log off one by one after that, Liam lingering behind to ask Louis' opinion on his intended Christmas present for Zayn. Harry comes back from the loo to find Louis grinning at the screen. “Are you kidding?! A trip to London and low key underground slash street art exhibition would already make him bounce with happiness, but _Banksy_?! That guy is a _god_ , mate. Zayn's gonna _propose_.”

Harry snorts at the exaggeration, but he's also pretty confident Zayn is going to be over the moon at Liam's present.

“Good. You think he'll like it, then?”

“ _Yes_.” Louis groans, as if he hadn't been clear. “God, you're a Payne.”

Harry snorts, and Liam huffs. “Your man's rubbing off on you, mate.”

“Not right now, I'm not,” Harry quips, and laughs when it comes out exactly as Louis casually says “Not right this moment, no.”. They beam at each other and Liam makes a retching sound.

“I'm out, you disgusting creatures. Talk to you soon, yeah? Try not to make babies before you get a pay raise, yeah?”

Louis sticks his tongue out.

Harry leans in to come into view and beams. “We'll just keep practicing.” Liam squawks and his window goes black.

They exchange grins. Harry swoops down to peck Louis' lips. “Ready to kip?”

“Sure. Let me just turn this off. D'you wanna bring a dvd up so we can watch it on the telly in my room?” Harry straightens up and nods. “What do you feel like?”

“Surprise me,” he replies distractedly. He's getting a closer look at a picture of Louis and Damion, young and trying to look cool and gangsta while wearing sunglasses that don't fit their faces. They're holding spray paint cans and behind them is held a banner that has been tagged “On The D-L!! #26”.

“Get it? D-L. D and Lou.” Louis pipes up from next to him.

“You're ridiculous.”

“Come on, we were _rad_. We even did the hashtag before twitter was a thing.”

“What does it mean?”

“Number 26. It was for our thirteenth birthday. Times two, equals...”

“Ah.” Harry kisses the top of his head. “Clever.”

“Always.” He pokes Harry's stomach with a dvd case. “That okay?”

Harry takes it out of Louis' hand and uses his arm, slung across Louis' shoulders, to pull his boyfriend around into a standing cuddle. The film is Sleepy Hollow. “Cool. Haven't seen it in a while. Good idea. Will you hold me if I'm scared?”

“What about if you're not?”

“Can you still hold me?”

Louis grins up at him. “Sounds perfect.”

They make the round through the living room, turning off the lights. Louis pauses before he unplugs the fairy lights that twinkle in the Christmas tree. “This tree is absolutely ridiculous,” he comments.

“It's got paper maché cats on it,” Harry says quietly, like he's relieved he feels allowed to point it out. “I mean, I love cats, but...”

"Relevance, right?” Louis waggles a hand towards a hanging figurine with a flat expression. “And the Australian surfing Santa in swimming trunks _had_ to be there.”

“Obviously.” Harry snickers and comes closer. “I'm quite taken with this tinsel sheep, actually. Where would you even find these?” he giggles one of the herd with the tip of a finger.

Louis joins him a sighs. “And the hand crafted utter _shite_ we all made when we were kids. _Why?_ Is it a humility thing?”

Harry chuckles. “And the-...”

“And I love you." Startled, Harry looks up to find Louis swallowing nervously, but sporting a small, hopeful smile. Then Harry smiles, huge, dimpled and happy, and Louis feels warm all over. “God, I love you so much.”

Looking awed and disbelieving, Harry brings a hand up to cup Louis' face. “I love you too, Lou.” He dips down for a kiss, but stops short of connecting their lips. Louis lets out a quiet gasp in between them. “A whole bloody lot,” he mutters, then presses into a gentle kiss. It's the same as before, but it feels all new. All of it. Everything. Standing in the middle of the house Louis grew up in, hearing those words, knowing how terrifying they were to utter. He feels Louis shiver against him, and suddenly the shorter man is pushing back, tangling a hand in his hair and deepening the kiss. It stays slow and so full of meaning that it makes Harry's head spin a little. He feels for the mantle of the chimney blindly, and pushes the dvd onto it, glancing quickly over so as not to topple off anything decorative. Then he can finally wrap Louis in a proper hug. They bask in the moment, faintly swaying to a music only they can hear. “Happy birthday, Louis,” Harry whispers in the quiet, not wanting to shatter their bubble.

“Yes,” Louis breathes into his neck.

It takes a second for his reply to make sense to Harry. Then he gets it. After all that he's lost, and while still walking with the scars and ghosts of his past, right this moment, Louis is happy. He _can_ still be. The thought alone is enough to make Harry's eyes sting, so he closes them, and presses his dimpled smile into Louis' hair and breathes.

Above, a picture from a far away Christmas. Damion and Louis cradle a toddler Lottie and smile down at them.

 


End file.
